Irk Du Freak: A Choose-Your-Own Adventure
by Inferna13
Summary: Your very own Invader Zim choose-your-own adventure! You, as your custom Irken, end up stepping into the world of Irk Du Freak, a freak show consisting of strange Irkens that show their talents and characteristics off to an audience. You get caught up in all the chaos, unfortunately. Will you meet familiar faces? Will you make new relationships? I have no idea! That's up to you!
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Okay, I know I haven't said anything about this fic until now, but I got a random stroke of genius (thanks to the song "The Greatest Show" and the book series "Cirque Du Freak", in case you didn't get the pun) and I just _had_ to write it out.**

 **Basically, it'll be set up like this: Every chapter, there will be at least one choice for you, the reader, to make about what should be done next. It will be in 2nd person (meaning I'll use phrases like "you" and "your") so you can get a bit more invested in what's going on. Hopefully it'll add a little uniqueness to the fic as well.**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

Imagine, if you will (which you have to), an Irken. That's it. Just any old inhabitant of the planet Irk. You can make your Irken however you want, tall or short, pale or dark, just craft it how you want.

You got it? Great.

That Irken is _you_. That's right. That Irken is going to represent _you_ , whoever you are, in this story. How cool is that?

So, now you have some choices to make. I mean, there's no way to know what you're picturing right now. I'm not _psychic_ or anything, of course.

To be sure that the story describes your "Irksona" correctly, choose an answer to each of these categories.

* * *

 **#1: Gender**

 _-Male_

 _-Female_

 **#2: Eye Color**

 _-Red_

 _-Purple_

 _-yellowish-brown_

 _-green_

 _-pinkish red_

 _-icy blue_

 **#3: Occupation**

 _-doctor_

 _-retired invader_

 _-scientist_

 _-table drone_

 _-janitor_

* * *

Go ahead, make your decisions. Got 'em? Good.

Okay, pay careful attention to this part. In order to let the author know what you've picked, close your eyes, pinch your tongue between two fingers, and think _really_ hard about your choices.

Harder.

HARDER.

...you actually did it, didn't you?

Priceless.

Anyway, if you really want your voice to be heard, answer each of the polls listed in the author's profile. They'll be open for a week, then closed for evaluation. About a week after, a new chapter will be released to continue the story. Yeah, that's right, it's awesome and you _know_ it.

Thank you for joining the official committee of story-making! Isn't it nice to read a story _you_ have a say in?

Um, yeah. It is. No one said _that_ was your decision to make.

Until next time, dear reader. Stay tuned.

* * *

 **A/N: I know this chapter was ridiculously short, but everything needs to be set up before the actual story arc picks up steam. Hang in there, guys.**


	2. Intermission

Alright, so I realized that the system only allows me to display one poll on my profile for some reason. So, instead, I'm going to ask you all to comment your answers in the order of the questions (ex: Female, Purple, Doctor). Sorry for the mishap. Also, if you read the darn chapter, COMMENT YOUR RESPONSE! THAT'S THE WHOLE POINT, GUYS!

Anyways, I'll actually make a cover when the main character is done being designed. Once that happens, go ahead and take a look at it.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Hey everybody! I'm back from my trek around the entire planet!**

 **But seriously, sorry for taking so long. I went on vacation, plus I got really involved in my art career rather than writing. If you get bored of sitting, dormant, waiting for me to update: inferna-13**

 **I posted concept art for the two main characters already.**

 **Oh yeah! That reminds me!**

 **I only got two votes. TWO! And they're totally different! I mean, come on guys! Because of that, I had to smash together the ones that I managed to get to create the protagonist. The chosen look is a female doctor with green eyes, whose name you'll learn later. Please, for the love of the Tallest, vote when you read.**

 **And finally, the story begins.**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

 _"Don't judge a book by its cover."_

 _..._

 _"It's what's on the inside that counts."_

 _..._

 _"Looks don't matter."_

 _..._

 _"Throw out the freak, or the planet is weak."_

* * *

"Scalpel."

"Scissors."

"Tourniquet."

"Bandage."

"Tourniquet! TOURNIQUET!"

" _What_?"

"WILL SOMEBODY GET ME AN IRKFORSAKEN TOURNIQUET?!"

* * *

(( _Conclusion: My coworkers are all idiots._ ))

* * *

The absolute chaos in the medical bay had long spiraled out of control, with the patient going critical and every doctor except for you screaming their heads off and running around.

"Hey! Snap out of it!" you demand, smacking the nearest one across the face. You grab another and shake his shoulders violently. "Wake up!"

"Yes, Head Doctor Vega!" they apologize in unison, saluting and returning to their positions.

More or less.

"Head doctor Vega! Vega, come here _now_!" shrieks a familiar voice from behind you.

You ignore the lack of respect and whirl around, a "For the love of Irk, what is it _now"_ on the tip of your tongue... and freeze.

The patient's bleeding out through a spot on the abdomen, your (unchosen) best friend Skeet doing everything he can to keep blood from pouring out from between his fingers.

"SKEET!" you howl. "WHAT DID YOU _DO_?!"

" _Nothing_!" he shouts back.

"EX _ACT_ LY!"

You shove him over and put your own gloved hands over the problem area. "Maybe if someone had gotten Heinz a _tourniquet_ , we wouldn't _be_ here right now!

" _Yeah_!" Heinz pitches in. A quick glare shuts him up.

"Head Doctor Vega!"

" _WHAT_!"

"The amnesia wears off in _two_ _minutes_!"

* * *

(( _Conclusion: When things seem like they can't get any worse, they do_.))

* * *

Before you can stop them, the room falls into yet another panic.

"He's WHAT?"

" _Ahhhhh_!"

"We're horrible at our jobs!"

"What if the Tallest throw us out of the airlock?!"

"How can a simple operation to remove a _bullet_ get so out of control?!"

"EVERYBODY _SHUT UP_!" you finally scream. The doctors, all at once, turn their heads.

* * *

(( _Conclusion: Having authority over people is infinitely helpful._ ))

* * *

"SKEET!"

"Right here, Vega."

You look down at his annoyingly happy, freckled face. How long had he been standing right in front of you?

"Um, right. Watch the readings. And _stay there_ this time."

The whole reason he's in charge of sitting in front of the computer and doing nothing is because you simply don't trust him to pay attention, with his lack of focus and total inability to take things seriously. Fortunately, he has no idea that this is your reasoning.

"One minute 'til he's up."

* * *

(( _Conclusion: Skeet doesn't know any real scientific terms_.))

* * *

"Everyone else, do you Irking _jobs_!"

Your underlings put their heads down and return to their respective positions.

30 horribly, painfully stressful minutes later, the tallest doctor (besides you, of course) finally pulls the plasma bullet from your patient's side and tosses it onto the rolling tray.

"Got it," he sighs, relieved.

Despite your own relief, it's your duty to remain indifferent.

"We're not done here, people!" you remind them, forcing a scowl across your face. "Stitch him up."

* * *

The last stitch gets finished just in time. The second Heinz cuts the string, the patient's red eyes blink open, still out of focus. He begins to mutter drunkenly about gerbils or something, which is your cue to cart him out of there. Or rather, your cue to tell someone _else_ to do it.

"Nice job handling that madhouse," Skeet congratulates you with a grin wider then you're at all comfortable with. "You really-"

"Shut your trap," you spit. "It's not like you weren't a _member_ of said 'madhouse'!"

He laughs, which always seems to calm you down for some reason. No matter how mad you are at him, it's gone within the snap of a finger.

"C'mon, you know you love me," he teases.

" _Do_ I know that? Huh, that's funny. _I_ never thought I did," you deadpan, glancing down at your bloodstained uniform.

 _Gonna have to wash this later..._

"Besides," he continues. "If you weren't friends with me, I wouldn't be giving you _this._ "

He whips out two slips of paper with a flourish and waves them playfully.

It takes you a second, but you manage to grab one away from his obnoxious, waving hands and read the label.

"Irk Du Freak?", you frown, looking up at him skeptically. "What on Irk is _that_?"

"It's a... display of... unique... features?"

"So like, a freak show."

" _Nooooo_ , a-"

"A display of unique features. I heard you the first time."

You hand the tickets back and push past him. "Yeah, right. Forget it, those are _entirely_ fake. Optical illusions. Mind tricks. Smoke and Mirrors. MALARKEY."

You glance back to see Skeet's crestfallen face staring up at you with _that_ look on his face. One interesting thing the two of you share is the ability to communicate with a look. And this look was saying, "I went through all this for you, why won't you accept it?"

You almost oblige him, but tear yourself away. You aren't going on some stupid expedition so you could see some low-down _freaks,_ no matter what kind of look he gives you. End. Of. Story.

But... he follows you. Surprise, surprise.

"Wait, Vega-"

" _No_."

"Vega, I heard they have an Irkenette with _wings_ over there."

"Impossible. She would need a hollow bone structure and extremely powerful cardiovascular systems to get even a few _feet_ off the ground."

"Aw, come on!"

"I said no, Skeet." Against your own intentions, you add, "I'm sorry."

"What if you studied her?"

Suddenly, you stop in your tracks.

"...Study?"

* * *

(( _Conclusion: Skeet knows_ exactly _when he has my attention_.))

* * *

"Yeah, study! Don't you think it would be _interesting_ or whatever to check out her bones and cardio...vasquez...thingies?"

 _How in the name of the Tallest did this guy ever become a medical officer?_

You whip around decisively and snatch one ticket away with a "Fine" of venom and sugary-sweetness. You're talented like that. "But you'd better get me up _close_ to them or it's off."

"You won't regret this, Vega!" he cheers.

* * *

(( _Conclusion: I already have_.))

* * *

" _ATTENTION ALL MEDICAL PERSONNEL. REPORT TO ANNOUNCEMENT CHAMBER IMMEDIATELY._ "

A unanimous groan escapes the throat of every doctor in the building, _including_ Skeet. You shoot him a glare that says, "Respect your Tallest, you idiot," but he huffs instead of shutting up like he's _supposed_ to.

"Aw, Vega!" he complains. "You know just as good as anyone else that they're gonna make us sit through a bunch of garbage about how happy they are that Defective Zim is out of their antennae!"

"I know just as _well_ as anyone else," you correct him, receiving an eye roll.

* * *

"Something _terrible_ happened!" Tallest Purple screams.

"Something _unheard of_!" Tallest Red snarls.

"Somebody."

"Stole."

"Our."

"DONUTS!"

The crowd gasps in shocked horror. Murmurs regarding who the kidnapper is start up within a second.

"I went to sleep with the mini-fridge in my arms, woke up, and _bam!_ "

"Gone," Red finishes with an anguished tone lining his voice.

Purple whimpers, and a few servant drones hurry over to fan him with large jungle leaves.

After a painful moment of silence, Red Barks, "SO WHO DID IT?!"

The Irkens of the audience look around and shrug at each other.

"Well it has to be one of you! We've checked the soldiers, the assassins, even the _table drones_!"

Purple gasps. "WHAT IF IT'S ONE OF _US_?!"

A smack to the back of the head from Red brings him back to his senses.

"Hey-"

"ANYWAYS, it doesn't matter even if you _do_ own up. Your PAKs' memory cores are being scanned."

He melodramatically pulls out an Irkpad and smiles with menace. You can read that look. It's a "we're finally gonna get some justice" look.

 _BUFFERING..._

He waves you and the rest of the audience out with a sigh of exasperation.

"If you did it we'll get you later, bye."

Purple's howl of agony heard on the way out of the building clearly signifies the fact that the culprit is indeed _not_ a doctor after all.

* * *

(( _Conclusion: Being on break is even less tolerable than being at work._ ))

* * *

"Who do you think did it, Vega?"

"You're smart, right?"

"You know secrets that haven't even been _told_!"

"Well, who _was_ it, Vega?"

"If I knew, I'd be telling the _Tallest_ , not _you_ idiots," you growl at the crowd forming around you. As always, they shrink back and continue minding their own business.

But not Skeet.

 _Never_ Skeet.

* * *

(( _Conclusion: Skeet is possessed by a baby duckling that insists I'm its mother. An adorable, cheery little baby duckling, but a baby duckling nonetheless._ ))

* * *

"Ready for tonight?" he chirps nonchalantly, as if you aren't looking down your nonexistent nose at him.

"It's not like I have much of a choice," you sniff. "If I say no you'll be up my butt all the time trying to convince me."

"That's not true."

"And what gives you _that_ idea?"

"I wouldn't be able to get past the stick!"

He bursts out in laughter, earning a PAK leg across the back of the head.

A few generic passerby look over, confused messages written across their faces. A quick glare prompts them to put their heads down and keep walking.

* * *

(( _Conclusion: Being tall has its perks_.))

* * *

Well, maybe that wasn't really a conclusion. More like fact.

When Skeet finally quits his incessant giggling, he starts up his floodgates of a mouth again.

"It's gonna be so great. You think we'll get to meet the performers? I hope so. I'll bet that winged Irkenette is the coolest person alive. Besides me, of cour-"

"How'd you even get the tickets?" you interrupt him.

* * *

(( _Conclusion: Never ask Skeet a question_.))

* * *

"Oh, that's a funny story," he begins dramatically. "I was walking down the street last night, and I saw this creepy dude with a coat and he-"

"I've heard enough," you cut in.

 _It's like this guy doesn't know how_ not _to talk._

The sharp smell of rotting Stentian turnips mixed with cold, hard metal meets your antennae. You've walked into the market sector, the dirtiest, stinkiest place in the city.

 _Oh, joy._

Random vendors call out the names of their products, acting a lot less enthusiastic than they really should be.

"Get your Galactian corn dogs! Made with 60% dog! I think."

"Hey you! Filthy Irke- fine gentlemen! Can I interest you in some poiso- candy?"

"Pensulas eyes! Get your Pensulas eyes! Or don't. Whatever."

It's just the norm to ignore all of them. Unlike SOMEONE you know, you're _smart_ enough not to take any interest in their scams.

"Ooh, look at _that_! Wow, those smell delicious! Did that guy _make_ those? Vega, he _made_ those!"

You ignore him too, also the norm.

"I can't _wait_!" he cheers, changing the subject faster than a rabbit hyped up on a gallon of sugar. " _Ahhhhh_ it's so close I can _feel_ it! It'll be _soooooo_ cool!"

You have to stop yourself from snorting. No logical reason to hurt his feelings right now.

But you have to admit, the one with wings _does_ sound pretty interesting...

If she actually _exists_ , of course.

"VEGA!"

You look over, exasperated.

" _What_?"

"That's the guy that sold me the tickets!"

He points a finger, but you shove it down.

"Don't point! He'll _notice_!" you hiss.

But it's too late. He's looking at you and beckoning with one hand.

You smack Skeet across the back of the head again.

"I swear, there's gotta be a callus there by now," he murmurs to himself, then tugs your kicking and screaming self off towards him.

You struggle and throw whispered threats at him, to no prevail.

* * *

(( _Conclusion: Skeet's only trait to be respected is his_ grip.))

* * *

"Hi!" he greets the shady-looking Irken as if you aren't flipping out silently right next to him."I know you, we've met!"

" _We_ have," the salesman agrees. "You were the guy that didn't know how ta' shut up. But I wasn't askin' for you, I was askin' for _her._ "

You freeze as he gestures to you.

"I have no interest in whatever the flirk you're selling. I _happen_ ," You glare at Skeet. "To be more _intelligent_ that my _comrade_ here."

"I ain't tryin' ta' _sell_ ya' anythin'," he frowns. "You're 'comrade' bought ya' a ticket already."

"Then what is it?"

"You're wearin' the uniform of a head medical officer. We need ya' for Irk Du Freak."

You pull in a sharp breath. "ExCUSE me?"

"Not like _that_!" he snaps. "We need a _doctor_!"

You cross your arms and straighten your back, drawing yourself to your full height. This is an intimidation technique commonly used to show dominance over another.

"I'm afraid I couldn't care _less_ ," you lie. If you were being honest with yourself, you would've said you'd love to help those in medical need.

But when are you ever honest with yourself?

You begin to walk away, but he calls out, "How 'bout this?"

* * *

(( _Conclusion: People in_ general _don't know how to shut up_.))

* * *

"I'll give you a backstage pass!"

Skeet fangirl squeals and shakes your already sore arm around hysterically.

"OOOOOVega _Pleeeease_ SayYesINeedToMeetThemAndYou'llGetToSeeThatWingedOneAndCOMEON!"

He gives you a "Say no and I'll be sad forever" look.

The dreaded puppy eyes.

You're torn. On one hand, Skeet's feelings. On the other, your pride. And on the other other, free studying of the freakazoids.

"I'm in," you say decisively. Skeet lets out a whoop of joy that turns more than a few heads. _He_ clearly doesn't care, though.

" _Oooooohhhh_ THANK you, Vega, I owe you one!"

 _Why is Skeet so excited to see these people?_

* * *

(( _Conclusion: Skeet may be hiding something_...))

* * *

You tuck away the tickets and pull him along, right before the vendor sends you a grin of pearly white teeth.

Pearly, _razor-sharp_ white teeth.

You don't even get a chance to comprehend what you just saw when the crowd whisks the two of you away.

* * *

(( _Conclusion: I've made a terrible decision._ ))

* * *

 **A/N: No choices to make in this one. I figured I could gather an audience first.**

 **I hope you enjoyed! I tried to make this one exceptionally long to help you gain some interest and to make up for my lack of an update schedule.**

 **DeviantArt: Inferna-13 Currently posted: Skeet reference sheet, Vega reference sheet.**

 **Just like in PSO: AE, I'm going to thank my favoriters, reviewers, and followers individually at the end of the author's notes. So, thanks to Zim'sMostLoyalServant and Phoenix-Inferno18!**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Hello! I don't have much to say this time around, other than that I want to talk about an awesome art trade with Rosetta-kyaan on DeviantArt, who drew Vega and Skeet for me. I highly suggest you check it out, as well as my own reference sheet for them.**

* * *

(( _Conclusion: Zero hour can't come slow enough_.))

* * *

It's been about three hours since you and Skeet shoved your way through the massive crowd in the streets of Irk. A few people snapped at you or shoved back, but eventually you forced a path to your dorm.

That's right, you share a room with Skeet.

Great, huh?

"We've got fifteen minutes, Vega," he reminds you. "You might wanna change out of that uniform."

You look down. Pinkish blood continues to rupture the bright emerald green color of your coat.

"True," you muse, forgetting never to admit that Skeet's right. "I'll be in the laundry room."

The laundry room is located all the way in the back of the apartment, equipped with only the _fanciest_ and most _elegant_ sliding door that never seems to close all the way.

Some days Skeet tends to call something out thinking he needs to scream to get through the door, only to blast your antennae out. He's louder than he realizes, most times.

You shrug off your coat and stick it into the clothing cleanser. As you hit the start button, your brain begins to wander as it always does.

 _Skeet's been acting weird, well weirder than usual, ever since he got those tickets._

 _Is he hiding something?_

 _No, that blabbermouth couldn't keep a secret to save his life._

 _Then what's it all about?_

You glance back at the door. The sounds of Skeet rooting through the pantry tell you that he's on the lookout for one of those Lik-a-maid thingies he's so addicted to.

Before you can stop yourself, you're singing a quiet note. High C. Perfectly in tune. This never happens by your own free will, but your voice always seems to override your common sense when you're alone.

A random song comes into mind, one with no words. The Irken Planetary Anthem. Key of A flat minor.

You start the song quietly, trying not to get noticed.

The shuffling in the kitchen seizes. Skeet must've found his snack.

No one except for you has ever heard you sing. You're not shy or self-conscious about it, it's just that you feel it's too trivial and useless to the Empire. What kind of use could a _singer_ possibly serve to society?

You remember a day from the Academy when you wondered what would happen if you became a famous singer. You used to fantasize about the beautiful stages you would perform in, blowing the audience away with nothing but your voice.

 _Wait_.

You halt suddenly. There's another voice singing along, belonging to...

"SKEET!" you howl. "Are you _spying_ on me?!"

He instantly shifts into defensive mode. "You were singing! I've never heard you sing before, it's like _asking_ to be spied on! Especially when it's _that good_!"

"Haven't you ever heard of privacy?!"

"Haven't you ever heard of displaying your talents?"

You fall silent, face flushed with embarrassment.

"Why don't you ever sing?" he asks quietly.

"Because... _because_..."

His look says, "Well?"

"I don't know."

"Hey, that's not-"

"DINGDING!"

 _Oh, thank the Tallest._

You snatch your coat out of the dryer, pull it on, and shove past him.

"Hey-"

"We're late. C'mon."

* * *

Irk Du Freak is the exact opposite of hard to find. All you had to do was get to the nearest dark alley and pull back a suspicious-looking blue tarp. A strange, spray-painted symbol burns from the side of the wall above it, featuring a version of the Irken logo with pincers at the bottom instead of the usual triangle, plus four antennae rather than two.

A long, metal tunnel underneath the fabric leads to what seems like nowhere, which Skeet is _way_ too okay with.

"I'm _soooo_ psyched!"

His voice echoes ominously off the walls of the gaping hole.

"I hate you," you growl.

"Aww I hate you too!" he chirps, then deploys his PAK legs and crawls inside. You follow suit with an eye roll.

The flume smells like everything you would never _ever_ want to smell. Decaying animal corpse, rotting eggs, bad BO, you name it. It's ALL. THERE.

Your antennae flatten in an effort to keep out the stench, but Skeet's ever-perky ones stick straight up in the air.

"If I get mugged, it's on you."

"That's fair."

"If I _die_ , it's on you."

"That's fair too."

"If I kill you first, it's _still_ on you."

"That's... less fair."

After ten more minutes of skittering around blindly you emerge and breathe in the welcoming scent of...

...alcohol.

 _Ohhhh, boy_.

You look up to find that the entire auditorium surrounding you is hidden within a horde of plants that have grown over a round wire skeleton. All light in the area comes from old-fashioned oil lamps shaped like small pillars, casting an interesting yellow glow on everything.

Countless Irken personnel flood the place, consisting of soldiers, former invaders, janitorial drones, and much more. They chatter among themselves, some looking for seats or scrolling around on their IrkPads. A few are even towing Vortian slaves behind them.

A brightly lit stage completes the atmosphere, sitting there like an ever-present centerpiece watching over everything.

"Wow," Skeet breathes. Even you have to admit it's impressive to look at, especially compared to the dirty, criminal-ridden heckhole you imagined. A bowl-shaped chandelier even hangs from the ceiling.

Your jittery companion drags you over to two of the seats in the front row, practically shaking with excitement.

* * *

(( _Conclusion: There's a good reason why Skeet wants to be here._ ))

* * *

You ponder the thought for a moment, then let it pass. He's just acting on Skeet-like impulse.

The light dims all of a sudden. The show is starting, but who's turning down the lamps?

A quick turnaround reveals that it's a bunch of people wearing black cloaks turning the gas knobs. One, a female, makes eye contact with you and smiles. One of her eyes are red, the other yellow.

 _Heterochromia_?

She then winks at you and fades into the shadows with the other black-clad figures.

"Welcome!" a voice calls out, echoing throughout the chamber. You turn around. "Welcome, one and all, to Irk Du Freak!"

The audience claps, a few individuals letting out whoops of excitement.

A spotlight, the first artificial light source so far, shines into the stage to reveal a smiling figure with his arms spread wide and a small staff in one hand.

His outfit consists of a red and black cape-y coat with red stripes, complete with a flashy top hat. The weird logo from before shines silver on the front of it. He blinks his matching red eyes and lowers his hands.

"I'd like to thank everyone for coming out tonight!"

Another round of applause.

"Please, try some of our delicious snacks to be handed out momentarily!"

One audience member screams, "SNACKS _ROCK_!"

The announcer sends the crowd a smirk and says, "Let the show... _begin_."

At the word _begin_ , two slits open up from under his eyes and peel back to reveal...

A collective gasp fills the air.

Two. More. Eyes. Underneath his normal ones.

Your brain has a stroke.

" _What?! How is that possible?! Can he even see out of them?! What dimension of vision does he have?! WHAT?_

Skeet's own eyes are riveted to the stage. He's quiet for once.

"My name is Rue. I'll be your guide through the mysterious world of Irk Du Freak," the announcer continues.

Then he steps aside with a gesture of his staff. A few more black-wearing drones emerge and push forward a gigantic tank on water into the spotlight.

"Introducing..."

Someone bursts out of the water and grins widely, dressed in a blue and green, waterproof suit with small ruffles like fish fins.

"Spawned from a chemical spill in the smeeterie, please welcome... Gill of the third quadrant!"

Gill waves in a friendly manner and dives into the water backwards. Underneath the surface, through the glass, you see small flaps slowly emerge from his neck area. Gills.

Two minutes pass. Three. Five. And Gill stays under the surface.

As the drones push him and the tank out, he smiles directly at you.

* * *

(( _Conclusion: the creep on the street blabbed about me._ ))

* * *

"And next up..."

The spotlight shuts off, leaving you in the audience in total darkness. That is, until the blue bolt of electricity sparks from the stage with a _zap_ sound.

Then again. A lightning bolt shoots forward, this time illuminating the silhouette of a fairly tall Irken male.

The second and third shots cue the lights to turn back on, revealing the creator of the flashes of electricity. He stands cockily with his hands on his hips, chest puffed out in pride like some kind of celebrated hero.

* * *

(( _Conclusion: I don't like this guy._ ))

* * *

"Mutated from the results of an electric storm passing over his lab, please welcome... Volt of the second quadrant!"

Volt tenses up his raised hands and allows sparks to crackle through them, creating an admittedly cool display of bright blue energy.

His eyes flash dangerously at the applause he receives. He's eating it up.

 _Jerk_.

Even Rue seems to give him a sideways glare, but it goes unnoticed.

"Thanks you, Volt! Now, next performer!"

Volt bows melodramatically and sauntered off the stage, making way for the next freak.

"Please note that this next act might be a little disturbing to some viewers."

The performer, dressed in the millionth black cloak you've seen today, steps into the spotlight.

"Please welcome... Phin of the third quadrant!"

At the sound of his name, Phin's cape is thrown off to reveal... well... everything. The audience either screams, gets dizzy, runs outside to throw up, or all of the above.

His heart, his lungs, his squeedilyspooch, it's all entirely visible through that transparent skin of his.

"Told ya," Rue smirks. Phin, to your surprise, laughs with him. You, personally, would've slugged him across the face.

Skeet grabs your hand suddenly, apparently not out of his own accord. He's sweating and whispering, "you're a doctor, you're a doctor" over and over to himself.

"Skeet?" you whisper, actually concerned. "Are you squeamish?"

He nods timidly.

"Why do you think I let you put me on monitor duty?"

Rue's voice brings you back to the stage.

"No one knows how this happened. Word on the street is, there was a glitch in the reproduction tube. Others suggest it may be something more. Who knows?"

Phin bows and saluted the crowd, stepping away on ballerina toes. A collective sigh of relief fills the auditorium. Skeet lets go of your hand, flushed.

"Nicely done, Phin. Now, for performer number 4, I've got a nice little surprise planned for you!"

Some audience members get up and leave at that comment.

"Please welcome Beetle of quadrant four!"

A figure walks out of the shadows.

On his hands.

 _Four_ of them, to be exact.

 _Why does everybody suddenly have extra body parts? Gills, arms, eyes, what's next?_

"Beetle got stuck with a broken tube, which didn't detect his abnormality and allowed it to grow! He lived his life normally, unlike many other performers here."

His way of showing off his... special ability was juggling. And we're not talking boring ball juggling, no, this guy is throwing around flaming chainsaws. Talk about freaks.

But by now your brain has already turned off, and it's not turning back on until the winged Irkenette comes into play.

Two more acts pass, a male with quills like a porkpine* and a pair of females that look exactly alike and speak in unison.

 _Yawn_.

Then Rue announced a short break and stepped backstage. The drones turn the lights back up.

"This is so great," Skeet grins.

* * *

(( _Conclusion: Skeet has the memory span of a goldfish._ ))

* * *

"I'm hungry."

 _I rest my case_.

He points to a line of snack tables covered in food, each in front of another freak with a white apron (with that logo on it) on.

"What are you in the mood for?" he asks.

* * *

-Vort Dogs

-Plekuvian cake

-Moose-shminkies

* * *

 **A/N: And there's chapter 4! Please, for the love of the Tallest, place a vote. Also, note that you can't cast your decision after the next chapter is posted. I forgot to point that out last time.**

 **If you happen to read "Lost" by Ladyanaconda, I recently posted a really cute drawing of Donut the Indokuro on my DeviantArt.**

 **(Psssst! Inferna-13! That's my username!)**

 **Thanks to Scarecrow345 and that other person with the really complicated username that the site won't let me type for some reason!**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Yeah, yeah, I know it's been forever. I went in vacation in New York, and there was one vote for each choice. I had to find a tiebreaker. The more people vote, the faster I can update, so help me out, guys.**

* * *

"Moose-Shminkies," you answer, sending Skeet a quick gesture to step up to the booth. You study the smiling vendor suspiciously. Every other black-cloak you had met had been some variation of freak, but this one showed no sign of being different than everyone else.

So what's wrong with him?

The Irken at the counter smiles in a friendly manner and places his hands on the table, leaning on them with a grin still spreading across his face.

"Hello!" he welcomes you cheerfully. "Care for some Moose-shminkies?"

He sweeps a hand over the mouth-watering food on the table. Although Irken don't require sustenance anymore, some certain smells stimulate the senses. Skeet, especially, ADORES food. Luckily for him, you don't care enough to get mad when he eats your entire stock of snacks.

"Looks great!" he smiles, pointing at a particularly good-looking one. "How much?"

"On the house! For... the lady." He sends you a wink that instantly makes you not like him. What a creep.

He hands you a moose-shminkie, seeming to touch your hand extra long. You snatch the food away as fast as possible, growling a little.

Skeet takes his own snack and waves goodbye. "Thanks!"

"No, thank you!" the guy calls back, staring directly into your emerald green eyes. Yech.

After a bite of snack, Skeet begins talking to you nonchalantly with his mouth full. You pray to the Tallest that he doesn't spit any crumbs on you.

"Sho whaddya fink of da schow?" he lisps.

You wipe your face off with the napkin the vendor had provided and motion for Skeet to do the same. He doesn't. "It's alright, I guess."

He sits back with a blissful smile.

"I love it. It's nice to see that I'm not the only-" He stops and turns toward you, as if to see if you heard that, which you did.

"It's nice to what?"

"...Nothing."

* * *

(( _Conclusion: Something isn't right.))_

* * *

You stare at him for a minute until the lights dim, leaving no light source but the spotlight illuminating the stage. Skeet turns away and smiles in anticipation. Well, you think he does anyway. You can barely make his face out in the darkness.

Rue strides into the light with that signature grin on his face, arms spread wide in a grand gesture of "look at me, I'm _back_ ". The crowd roars and gives him a round of applause, prompting him to bow deeply with his staff behind his back.

"Thank you, thank you! But this is about the _performers_ , not _me_!"

You roll your eyes, knowing well and good that he's drinking it up.

"Anyways," he continues slyly. "Let's get right to the show! Needing noooooooooo introduction, please welcome to the stage... Rivera! The mind reader!"

The next freak, Rivera apparently, steps into view. She's wearing a magenta and dark purple outfit similar to a janitorial uniform, but with that symbol on the front and a longer tail on the back. Her antenna spiral down almost all the way to the floor, forcing her to tie it up in a fixture similar to a ponytail.

"A _mind_ reader?" you say aloud. Skeet shushes you.

 _Mind reading is scientifically impossible, Skeet. You of all Irkens should know that._

Rivera turns and stares directly into your eyes, looking like she'd snap your neck if she were close enough.

 _Creepy, but you're not fooling me_.

You decide to sort of mess with her a bit. She can't hear you, after all.

 _Freak._

She growls and opens her mouth as if to shout, but Rue picks up on it and frantically jumps into her field of vision, waving his arms all over the place like a crazy person.

You can read lips. He's saying, _the snow much go on, Rivera, the snow must go on._

Oh wait. No, he's saying _show_. The _show_ must go on. Nice job, Vega. You're _sooooo_ smart.

"A studious individual! A warrior! She's has it all, including a quick trip into the minds of her _victims_."

Rivera raises a nonexistent eyebrow at the announcer, who shrugs and smiles innocently.

"What?"

She hits a button by her antennae, probably her microphone, and turns to some random guy in the stands. The spotlight falls on the Irken, making him shield his reddish pink eyes and wince. He's wearing the uniform of some kind of entertainer, an odd tattoo of three diamonds arranged across his cheek.

"You." she croons, pointing him out with a sly smile. "Jester Jet. Entertainer to the Tallest. Currently thinking about his latest prank involving a whoopee cushion and the pilots' chairs."

A few Irkens in pilot uniforms glare at Jet from their place in the stands. He looks sideways and laughs nervously, then turns to an Irkenette next to him and murmurs something like, "How on Irk did she know that?"

" _Massive_ crush on that nice little friend by your side."

The blue-eyed girl next to him covers her face in embarrassment. Jet turns red and scrambles to come up with an explanation, smiling uncontrollably and sweating in bewildered terror. The spotlight turns away and Rivera leaves the stage with a bow.

The Irkens of the audience lean over, as if trying to see the rest of the scene play out.

"Well _that_ was embarrassing," Rue coughs. "On to the next act!"

A quick chuckle from the stands.

"I've got a _real_ nice surprise planned for you folks tonight," he winks.

* * *

(( _Conclusion: Winking is a bad sign. A very bad sign.))_

* * *

After the encounters with the other freaks, you're not sure more sounds all that appealing.

 _No, this is for science. For science, for science, for science. Science, Vega. Science, science, science_.

"And now, the moment you've allllllll been waiting forrrrrr..."

 _Come on..._

"Drum rolllllll pleeeeeeaaaasssseee..."

You have to admit, he has an awfully good grasp on building suspense.

"Sky! The incredible winged Irkenette!"

 _No way. No flirking way._

The floodlights pan over to a spot over your head and behind you, where a small, light purple-eyed figure perches with her hands in front of her folded legs. She waves shyly, like she's terrified of all the eyes staring at her but has to present to the audience. She seems to be the only one that truly doesn't want to be the center of attention.

Her outfit consists of a flowy garment that fits over her frame like a leotard, plus two holes in the back for her gigantic insectoid wings.

Speaking of her famous wings, they seem to be a sort of cross between butterfly and dragonfly wings, ridiculously huge for her size and seemingly glowing a pearly lavender. She gives them a flap at Rue's hand signal, wowing the audience.

 _I._

 _Must._

 _Meet._

 _Her._

"Show 'em, Sky!"

She sends him a slight thumbs-up and dives off of the platform. A collective gasp fills the auditorium as she plummets to the ground, seemingly undeterred by the wind rushing around her and the fact that she's FALLING OFF A FLIRKING FIFTY FOOT PLATFORM.

Just as she drops a few dangerously short feet over the stands, her wings snap out and catch her, turning the gut-wrenching free-fall into a graceful glide. Oohs and aahs fill the air as she swoops over everyone's heads and sets herself down on the wooden stage, nodding at Rue as she lands next to him. He smiles as if he gets about as tired of her act as the Tallest do their snacks.

"Thank you for coming out!" Rue calls. "Be sure to stop by the gift shop for some cheap, useless garbage that'll get lost in between the couch cushions!"

* * *

After everyone files out with noisy chatter about the show, Skeet tugs your hand over to the doorway marked "Backstage entrance", chittering like a chipmunk on a sugar high. Haven't you used an analogy like that before...?

You step through the curtain, truly believing you're ready for anything.

Nnnnnnnnope!

About 15 freaks sit together against the hallway-like walls of the backstage room and talk amongst each other, some practicing their freakish skills or just smiling and laughing. Rue floats between conversations, the only one doing any walking around.

The first person to notice you is a male with a bloodied knife (which is a tad unnerving, to be honest), who expertly spins it into its loop on his belt and stands up. He sizes you up with confusion.

"Hey guys, check this out!" he calls. The room grows a little quieter. "What's up with the weirdos?"

 _Weirdos?! I'm in a room_ full _of "weirdos"!_

Rue glances up from whatever conversation he's in, his expression going from curious to overexcited.

"You're _here_!" he cheers, bowling over and wrapping his arms around your waist. Like with Skeet, his grip is an iron trap.

"I'm so _happy_! You must be Vega! And this is Skeet! Wow, you're tall! Gere told me you were coming and I just DIED! We've been waiting for _years_!"

"That's... great... get... _off_..." you choke.

"Ahh, whoops, sorry!"

He pulls himself off of you, smiling, and insists on introducing you to the members of the show. You're too busy trying to _breathe_ to argue with him.

First up is Rivit, the guy with the knife. As it turns out, he has the unique skill of regrowing limbs or healing serious injuries in a matter of seconds. The blood on his knife was his own, drawn from practice of his power. As a doctor, you're actually kind of intrigued. He seems to be quick-talking and fierce, willing to fight anything that needs fighting.

Next is Meta, the heterochromic black-cloak from before. Apparently her abnormality was caused by a drop on her head as a smeet.

You did eventually get introduced to the black-cloak that had hit on your earlier, Stretch, who has the ability to, well, stretch his limbs to unnatural lengths. And he continued to flirt with you during the whole introduction. "Heyyyy, good-lookin'!" "Boy, are you tall! Hot!"

 _Yech_. With a capital _Y_.

Then it was Volt, one of two of the dreaded encounters. As expected, he's the most obnoxious variation of egotistical you can imagine.

"Clearly I'm the best one here," he brags, playing with a ball of electricity crackling around his fingers. "I haven't noticed anyone else here that can disable an Irken with one _thrust_ of the arm..."

A bolt of lightning blasts out of his hand and hits one of the twins over the head. He starts screaming and spazzing out, then falls to the floor directly onto his face. Snoring. Volt looks sideways and laughs nervously.

"Ehhh... whoops?"

The second dreaded encounter followed, Rivera, who glared over you with an expression like she was listening for something.

 _Flirk_ _off_.

After a dirty look that could burn a hole through your head, she snarls, "Welcome aboard." She sounds like it takes actual physical strength to say that.

A few more introductions later, Rue leads you all the way to the back of the hall, where Gill's tank sits silently, looming over you. The blue-green water seems to almost glow from the light refraction, illuminating the dark hallway a bit.

It takes you a moment to notice, but there's a shape lying at the bottom of it. It looks more or less Irken, but lifeless and dark.

Breathing is too low. Heart rate is probably too low as well. Skin is pale.

It's Gill.

"Rue," you say, grabbing him by the shoulder. "Why did Gere _really_ send me here?"

Suddenly, he looks a lot less ecstatic than he was just a moment earlier.

"We don't know what's wrong with him," Rue sighs. "One minute, he's performing. The next, he's...well, _this_."

You kneel down and examine the near-lifeless body inside. The water is slightly brown, as if it hasn't been cleaned recently, a definite warning sign. It doesn't take you long to figure it out.

"Bacterial gill disease," you conclude.

"What?"

You stand up, cross your arms, and stare Rue in his double set of eyes. He looks confused.

"Bacterial Gill disease. Common in aquatic organisms such as fish, caused by unsanitary conditions and aided by stress."

"Oh, thank the Tallest," he breathes. "You know what it is."

"Yes..." you say slowly. "He needs a thorough cleaning of his tank and a break from performing."

"Oh, sure, we can trade him out for Stretch or something."

He looks right back into your eyes and grabs your shoulders.

"Vega, how would you like to become a part of the Irk Du Freak? We're tired, we're hungry, we need a doctor. We've been having to steal food from the _Tallest_. We _need_ you, Vega."

"Wait, that was _you_?" Skeet cuts in. You forgot he was even there.

"I assume they held a gigantic assembly to interrogate you about it and scan your memory cores?"

"Well, uh... yeah. Pretty much."

"I'll go." you announce suddenly.

 _WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!_

 _I'm making a change. Put up with it, conscience._

Rue attacks you with another crushing embrace.

"THANKYOUTHANKYOUTHANKYOU!" he cries. "I promise to give you the best and most exciting life you could ever ask for!"

"She _staying_?!" Beetle calls form behind you.

"Only if you don't make a big deal about it."

"GUYS! VEGA'S STAYING!"

"Really?" Right responds."The sarcastic cynic of an Irken being is thinking of someone other than herself for once?"

"Watch it!"

"Three cheers for Vega!" Stretch grins, raising his glass of water.

"Hip hip hooray! Hip hip hooray! Hip hip HOORAY!"

Skeet slaps you across the back. "Great job, Vega, you got a dirty job in a dirty place full of dirty people! Your dream!"

You look at him.

"I mean, you're gonna bring me, right? You'd tp that for your very best friend, obviously,"

 _Don't take the bait. He's trying to make you feel guilty._

 _Didn't I already tell you to shut up?_

* * *

 _-_ Bring Skeet along

\- Don't

* * *

 **A/N: Yep, I decided to make it CRAZY long to make up for taking forever.**

 **The cameo of Jet and his "lady friend" comes from a DA friend named WitchyArtistGal, who also coincidentally created an OC named Sky (the girl Jet has feelings for). Check out Witchy's page!**

 **Thanks to WitchyArtistGal, alienn-fricc, Phoenix-Inferno18, and Zim'sMostLoyalServant!**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Yep, I already wrote the next chapter even though only two people voted. Both chose the same thing, so I took the opportunity.**

 **Also, I noticed a pretty massive mistake that I made last chapter. The freak with the sharp teeth? Gere? Yeah, his name is Dyke. I have no idea where "Gere" came from. To avoid confusion, here's a list of the freaks:**

 **Sky - wings**

 **Dyke - sharp teeth**

 **Rue - four eyes**

 **Meta - heterochromia (one red eye and one purple eye)**

 **Rivera - mind reading**

 **Volt - lightning abilities**

 **Rivit - regeneration**

 **Gill - breathes underwater**

 **Stretch - elasticity (Elastigirl, basically)**

 **Phin - transparent skin**

 **Beetle - four arms**

 **Tik and Tok - identical twins that speak simultaneously**

 **Yikes, I didn't even realize how many performers there were until I made that list. Sorry if it's hard to remember them all, I've been trying to focus on just a few of them. Namely Rue, Sky, Rivera, Volt, and Rivit. It'll be easier to remember them once I release ref sheets for them on DA, though. (Rue's next!)**

 ** _Aaaaaanyways_ , enjoy!**

* * *

"Why not," you sigh in defeat, tossing your arms into the air. "It's not like you follow me _everywhere_ or anything."

Skeet punches the air with a "YES!", then scampers off to make conversation with Dyke and Rivit in the corner. They seem to be talking about Defective Zim.

Rue smiles at you. "Really great friend you got there."

"Great?" you say in disbelief. "What?"

"Think about it, Vega. He's loyal, funny, positive, honest... what's not to love?"

"Allow me to revise your list."

You number each point with your fingers as you go. "He follows me around everywhere, his jokes fall flat on their faces, he refuses to see the ugly truth, and I think he's hiding something from me."

"Hiding something?"

"Yes. He's been acting... _odd_ ever since he bought those tickets."

"What do you-"

"HEADS UP!"

Rue ducks expertly out of the way of some projectile you can't see, grabbing your wrist and pulling you down with him.

 _BAM_!

A ball of electricity _explodes_ against the walls an inch from your head, crackling a little before fizzling out entirely. Rue pops up again without skipping a beat and continues talking.

"Anyways, I don't think you've been introduced to everybody yet."

You're too startled and confused to even answer him.

"Speaking of which, this is Beetle."

"Hm?" Beetle looks up from playing the trumpet and the guitar at the same time.

"And that's Phin. You remember him. Oh, there's Rivera. Tik and Tok. Gill, Dyke, Sky-"

 _Oh yeah._

"Where's Sky?"

"Over there, sitting alone in the corner by herself like some kinda lonely hermit crab."

Her wings are folded close as if she wants to be as small as possible, and come even closer when she notices you coming toward her. She flinches as you kneel down, as if she expects you to suddenly lash out and attack her unprovoked.

"Your wings are really...erm... cool," you say instead.

She looks down at her feet and murmurs, "Thanks."

"Could I get a better look at them?"

She doesn't say yes, but she does unfurl one wing for you too see. They appear to be slightly transparent like Vortian dragonfly wings, but with the shape and texture of that of a butterfly form Planet Blorch.

"Wow..." you breathe.

"I don't think anyone's ever been this _interested_ in me before," she half-laughs nervously.

"Tell me more," you say to her, starry-eyed.

She precedes to tell you the story of where her wings came from, how she was rescued from the Defective Pits by Rue and a few freaks from a while ago, and how they began to protect her from the insults and sneers. She had spent her entire life

 _No, don't feel sorry for her, Vega, don't-_

Too late.

* * *

" _Hey Vega! If you're so smart, how come you can't figure out how to make friends?"_

 _Vega looks up with a sigh, finding the exact scenario she had gotten used to over her years in the academy. Red, the biggest jerk to ever walk the planet, standing over her and sneering with his right-hand man, Purple, by his side. Not to mention the groupies that always seem to trail behind them._

" _What's the matter?" Red jeers in her face, regardless of the nonchalant expression she's trying so hard to conjure up. "Vortian got your tongue? Can't you hear? HELLOOOOO!"_

 _He suddenly grabs her antenna violently and spins her for everyone else to see, smiling like it's his birthday or something horrible like that._

 _Purple and the rest of the bunch laugh as if on cue, each throwing in their own two cents' worth of insults. Vega drops her book and bites her lip, using every bit of her energy not to cry out or scream._

 _Her head fills with the laughter or Red, Purple, and their lackeys, overwhelming her senses and blurring out the outside world. All of a sudden, the only clear sound left is Red's awful painful laughing._

* * *

 _((Conclusion: I have to do something.))_

* * *

" _GET YOUR FILTHY CLAWS OFF ME!" she shouts, unconsciously reaching up to scratch the living Tallest out of the hands that are coming close to lifting her off the ground painfully by the antennae._

 _Purple yips in surprise, apparently not used to any kind of reaction besides crying, and Red loosens his grip enough for Vega to wriggle her way out. He stares at her in disbelief for a second or two, but shakes himself off and steps forward threateningly._

" _You DARE speak to me that way?!"_

 _He draws back an arm to to strike Vega across the face, only for her to catch it without hesitation instead of bracing for impact. His boot-kissers look on in horror as she puts her military training to use, twisting his arm around until she's standing above him with his face ground into the dirt. He howls in pain and fury._

 _Out of nowhere, some guy walks over and chuckles nervously, easing Vega's boot off of her attacker's back and allowing him to stand up._

" _Okay, guys, relax... calm down."_

 _He turns to look into the eyes of both sides, Vega bright pink with adrenaline and Red rubbing his arm with steam radiating from his skin. But as soon as the stranger makes eye contact with them, their shoulders drop noticeably and their antennae flatten back down. A feeling of calm washes over her._

" _Red, Purple, why don't you guys go and grab yourselves something good for the mess hall?"_

" _Um, right! C'mon, Red, I'm hungry."_

 _Vega looks on, impressed, as the two walk away, chatting happily as if nothing had happened._

How did he do that?

" _You. What's your name?"_

" _Huh? Oh, uhm, it's Vega."_

" _Nice to meet you, Vega!" he smiles, taking her by the shoulder. "You can call me Skeet."_

* * *

Skeet had followed you around ever since, eventually becoming that one annoying friend instead of your rescuer. And even though Red had been a jerk and Purple had been a pushover, you had no choice but to forgive them once they became Tallests. They could throw you out of any airlock they wanted.

"VEGA!"

"Huh? What?"

Skeet is waving his hand in front of your face, so you push it down.

"What is it?"

"C'mon, we're gonna go see the ship!"

"...ship?"

* * *

"Say hello to the _Equality_!" Rue announces in his classic dramatic fashion, spreading wide his arms and motioning to the Silver Phantom Mk III before you. Phantoms are expensive ships, and you begin to wonder how a sideshow attraction got its hands on one.

Unfortunately, Phantoms are also small ships. Enough to comfortably hold about 5 pilots, NOT the 15 (or maybe more) cast members that make up the Irk Du Freak. Not including you or Skeet.

"Home sweet home," Rivit murmurs under his breath.

The inside is just about as roomy as you'd imagine for a scouting ship, with beds built into the walls and a barely half-decent amount of space for each crew member. It appears as though it has been expanded, as the metal in the sleeping area is a darker color than the shiny chrome of the rest of the ship.

And the final issue, there's not enough room for you and Skeet.

"We could put you in the cockpit," Rue shrugs. "I dunno."

"Maybe we could shoot them out of the airlock," Rivera suggests helpfully.

"Storage bay?"

Rue smiles, "Great idea, Dyke!"

"GREAT IDEA? _DYKE_?" Rivit gasps.

"It's big enough," he says, turning towards you. "Besides, what other choice do you have? I can imagine you don't want to share a tank with _Gill_."

Gill shrugs from under the water.

 _Can he hear what we're saying?_

"It's not the _space_ I'm worried about. It's being in the same room as _Skeet."_

But sure enough, you manage to get about an arm's reach for both of you thanks to the fact that the random, scattered boxes could be moved into the bone-dry snack storages on each side of _Equality._

Rue is up at the cockpit, turning knobs and flipping levers with expert precision. You're actually kind of impressed, you haven't seen anyone be able to calculate all the settings so quickly. Especially compared to the other crew members, who are staring on in wonder and awe.

* * *

(( _Conclusion: None of them can drive._ ))

* * *

The ship hums to life, lifting off the ground, when Skeet says, "Wait, where are we going?"

"Crazy!" Phin laughs. Rivera snorts and rolls her eyes.

"Foodcourtia. Wednesdays are meal days."

Your brain makes a random (and stupid) decision out of the blue.

"It's on me."

 _WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!_

Rue turns and stares at you, flabbergasted, accompanied by pretty much everyone else besides Skeet.

"It- you- what?" he stammers, as if he's just been offered a billion monies a year for the rest of his mortal life. Sky's eyes are practically popping out of her head.

"Why're you so surprised?" Skeet asks innocently. "Haven't you ever had someone do something nice for you?"

"Normies aren't _nice,"_ Rivera growls, grabbing an arm and turning away slightly.

 _Normies. Normal people._

Dyke, probably trying to break the brief tension, calls out, "Well, they pay us, don't they?" Beetle high-threes him.

"Foodcourtia, here we come!" Rue whoops, revving the engine. The takeoff sequence begins, humming along with the laughing and chatter of the Irk Du Freak cast.

You can't help but notice the sudden swell of emotion in your chest. It feels like...

Pride.

* * *

Three hours and 5 stops for fuel later (turns out the tank has a minor leak), the _Equality_ glides down onto a parking platform on one of Foodcourtia's moons.

"Boy, I, starved," Phin says, poking his torso region. "Just look at my squeedilyspooch! Woah, it's all over the place!"

"I'd rather not," Rivera groans, looking sick,

* * *

(( _Conclusion: Even if you spend years with Phin, you never get over the whole "transparent skin" thing.))_

* * *

"So," Rue claps. "Where does everybody wanna eat tonight?"

"Shloogorgh's," comes the unanimous reply.

You would give them a retort on how nasty Shloogorgh's Food Monster is, but you're a little busy noticing the small crowd beginning to form in front of _Equality._ After all, it's not every day you see a group of malformed freakzoids clown car out of a fancy cruise vehicle. They look confused, some tapping their companions on the shoulder and pointing without a word. One Vortian slave stops in his tracks, only to be smacked by his owner to keep walking. But he continues to stare at you over his shoulder.

The strangest thing is, the Irk Du Freak doesn't seem to notice at all. Rue simply smiles and waves, leading the way for everyone else. Phin gives out high-threes like some sort of celebrity, Beetle bows to a group of Blarken females, and Gill does little front flips from inside his tank.

* * *

(( _Conclusion: They've learned to love the attention._ ))

* * *

Your server leads you to the largest table in the restaurant, apparently not noticing the fact that the people trailing behind him are literally members of a freak show. He keeps grumbling about something relating to his "mission", constantly using the word "Grr" for whatever reason. Not the sound, the word. Weird.

Stretch gets a little bit (a lot) in your personal bubble, and it's only then you realize that he went out of his way to sit next to you. You begin to question his sanity.

"Welcome to Shloogorgh's Flavor Monster, the happiest place in the _blah blah blah_ what do you want?" The waiter growls.

"The Vort dogs. No Meecko sauce."

"Fried Doodeedoo."

"Ehh... just Chiscak for me."

"Live plooka. Wait no, fried. Wait no! Lightly seasoned."

"Same."

"What's the shmirkadoo of the day?"

As the rest of the table goes around, telling the grouchy server what they want, you begin to realize you're staring at him. He just seems so familiar...

Unfortunately he notices your eyes on him and turns with an irritated expression on his face.

"What're _you_ looking at?"

"Do... do I _know_ you?"

Out of the blue, he screams, "FINALLY!" and slaps his forehead. "How could it _possibly_ take so _long_ to recognize the great and powerful ZIIIIIM! EXPLAIN! EXPLAIN TO _ZIIIM_!"

"You're... defec- I mean, uh, _Invader_ Zim?" Beetle asks, wide-eyed. His finger shakes a little as he points.

"Yes, yes, me is Zim, Zim is me. BASK IN MY GLORY! _BASK_ _IN_ _IT_!"

"Ohhhhhh _Tallest_ , I'm gonna throw up."

"What're ye' doin' _here_?" Dyke asks him with a lean across the table. "Shouldn't ye' be off arguin' wit' that big-headed kid, on that planet you were exiled- uh... _assigned_ to?"

He scoffs. "I almost _wish_ that's where I were right now. Sizz-Lorr-"

"WHO CALLED ME?!" hollers a voice from the "Employees Only (NOT YOU, ZIM!)" door.

"NO ONE, OH GREAT AND WISE FRY-LORD! JUST OUT HERE BEING A GOOD LITTLE SLAVE! OH, MY LIFE IS _SOOOOO_ VERY MISERABLE! OHHHH, THE _PAAIIIINN_!"

You manage to pick up Sizz-Lorr grunting in approval.

"Idiot. Zim should be back on that _filthy_ Earth planet conquering the human _filth_!"

He turns back to Rue and gestures to the others with his pen. "So what're you guys supposed to be? Some kinda freak show or somethin'?"

"Yep!" Beetle chirps.

Zim stares a little, but folds up his notepad and walks backwards out of the room.

"I SHALL BE _BACK_ WITH YOUR _FOOD_!"

After a second, Skeet says, "Maybe he's not as bad as they say..."

"Are you _kidding?!"_ You shoot back. "He's exactly as loud and self-centered as all the rumors claim him to be!"

Volt shrugs. "I can respect a man who loves himself."

You scoff, expecting the others to be on your side, but Rue pipes up with a, "Shortness can be considered an abnormality, right? I mean, if you're as short as he is..."

The twins nod their heads. "Some say he's the shortest Irken to ever exist."

You struggle to speak in your fit of disbelief. Have they gone _crazy_?!

"No! He's a defective! He's _annoying_! He's _famously_ self destructive! He _murdered_ Tallests Miyuki _and_ Spork! He's loud, he's vain, and he's being hunted down by all the countless enemies he's managed to make!"

Sky turns away and mumbles something incomprehensible.

"What I'm saying is, he would serve as nothing but a pain in the squeedilyspooch-"

"Let's hold a vote!"

" _What._ "

Skeet smiles. "All in favor of leaving Zim here!"

You and Rivera raise your hands.

 _Finally, we agree on something._

"All opposed."

Everyone else raises their three-fingered hands high in the air. You growl and turn away from them, only to come face to, well, _stomach_ with the fattest creature you've ever seen. Seems to be some kind of blob monster. You watch as he goes by, then shake yourself off and return to the conversation.

"Then it's decided! Let's go tell him the good new-"

 _BAM_!

You and the cast whip your heads around towards the massive noise that just exploded out of nowhere. It appears is has something to do with the disturbingly fat blob creature from before blowing up from the inside.

Wait no, not blown up. Something's burst out of his massive stomach region.

 _How does that anatomy work?_

"Hachaaa!"

A little green man turns with his hands fixed defiantly on his hips, then jumps into the crowd and vanishes into the horde of people.

" _ZIIIIIIM_!" howls Sizz-Lorr's voice from the kitchen, where a few other employees scamper into cabinets and refrigerators to escape his wrath.

Someone charges past and begins shoving through the mass of customers on a beeline to Zim, screaming his head off. Must be Sizz-Lorr.

A long moment of silence follows, and the employees begin to slowly trickle out of their hiding places. Rue is the first to break the silence.

"Who wants to eat somewhere else?"

"ME!"

* * *

"Phew, I'm stuffed!" Dyke sighs, rubbing his belly.

"And it's _alllllll_ thanks to Vega!" Rue congratulates you through a mouth full of Vort dogs.

Stretch puts his arm around you (you hadn't noticed he'd been standing so close to you until now), so you karate-kick him in the squeedilyspooch and dust yourself off curtly.

Everyone loads up onto the _Equality_ and climbs into bed, most of them falling asleep within a few minutes. All except Rue, that is.

"Aren't you going to bed?" you ask him.

He chuckles. "Hah, yeah _right._ Gotta stay up and fly this piece of junk."

You take note of the heavy bags under his double set of eyes, plus the way his back is arched with his fingers practically dragging on the ground behind him. He probably hasn't slept in _days,_ possibly weeks.

* * *

(( _Conclusion: He needs rest. Badly._ ))

* * *

"I'll drive," you say decidedly. You'll sleep when you're dead.

"You-you _will_?"

"Sure," you shrug, as if it's no big deal. "Why not?"

He suddenly wraps you in a tight hug. You let him, just this once.

"Good _night,_ Rue."

"Goodnight, Vega."

He salutes to you and crawls into the small bed located in the cockpit, smiling.

That's when you realize something.

He never told you where you were going.

You glance over at him to see if he could be any help, but he's already fast asleep and you don't want to bother him. You _do_ manage to find two sets of coordinates on a notepad sitting on the dashboard, though. The first one, titled Planet Rijaxx, has a little doodle of a butterfly next to it (Rue is actually a pretty great artist), and the other, labeled Planet Rorschach, has a little fish.

* * *

- _Planet_ _Rijaxx_

- _Planet_ _Rorschach_

* * *

 **A/N: Hope you enjoyed the chapter even though it ran pretty long! I think you'll _reeeeeeeaaallyyy_ like the designs for the correct answer!**

 **If you like to draw, give my art contest a try!** **inferna-13/journal/Art-Contest-791009962**

 **Thanks to Phoenix-Inferno18 and Zim'sMostLoyalServant!**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: I just got these two hilarious hate messages from random guests (probably the same person) calling me a b**ch and yelling at me for "dumping on" Shades of Purple.**

 **Shades of Purple is an Invader Zim fanfic by Ladyanaconda that I had heard of but only just started reading after I received these comments, and I've never spoken a word about it.**

 **Someone explain the logic here. XD**

* * *

 _Rijaxx... Rijaxx... sounds familiar._

You exhale and grab hold of the controls, hitting a few buttons to allow the engine to hum to life. You've never flown a Phantom before, with its softly purring engine and high sensitivity.

It feels _great_.

A quick input of coordinates into the UPS (Universal Positioning System), and you're off, gliding through the stars at the speed of light.

 _THREE HOURS UNTIL ARRIVAL_ , the monitor reads (No robot voice though, which is unusual in new ship models like the Phantom). Yikes, this so-called Planet Rijaxx must be _really_ far away. As much as you'd love to switch to autopilot and get some shut-eye after this whole mess, Phantoms were designed for short scouting trips, not lengthy flights off to some random place that probably isn't even where you're supposed to be going. So no expensive autopilot systems.

This is going to be a _loooooong_ three hours.

* * *

 _One hour in._

SIGH.

You'd never even realized how excruciatingly _boring_ boredom is, as you've always been busy with the hustle and bustle of being Head Medical Officer, until this moment. These last _bazillion_ moments, actually. There is NOTHING TO DO. No music, no books, not even any interesting nebulae to look at. Just stars and sheer boredom.

You slump back into the captain's chair, blowing a raspberry through your lips tiredly.

"Pbbbbtt... pbt pbt pbt... bored, bored, bored..."

Huh. Brushing your teeth is the only time you clean your skeleton.

 _...I think I'm going insane._

* * *

 _Two hours in._

By this point you've resorted to playing with your antennae in a desperate effort to be entertained, something you haven't done since your days at the Academy. It was a nervous habit back then.

The hum of the engine is the only sound other than Rue's soft snoring, making you more and more sleepy as time goes on. Those lucky freaks, sleeping the night away in their cots.

A random alarm suddenly blares into your antennae, scaring you enough to let out a startled shriek and topple out of your seat. Rue jolts his head up and says something along the lines of, "SAUSAGES!", then jumps out and hits a red button. You glance at the monitor as the howling stops.

 _DESTINATION REACHED. PLANET: RIJAXX._

* * *

"Ahhhhhhh..." Beetle sighs as he steps off the Equality, stretching his limbs out. "I _love_ this place."

You take a moment to check out the scenery, a luscious rainforest with the feeling of tranquility and fertility. The trees are sure to hide hundreds upon hundreds of plants full of food sources, leaving the inhabitants with more than enough food to sustain them. A monkey or something hoots in the distance. A cricket chirps in a singsong manner, then fades out.

This _has_ to be the right planet. _Please_ let it be the right planet.

Rue places his hands on his hips and glances around, looking happier than ever. "Don't we all."

 _Phew. Guess my wish is granted.  
_  
Sky flaps by your head, spreading her wings happily, and does a few little flips and pirouettes in midair. She seems actually _content_ for once.

 _What is it about Rijaxx that she's so happy about?_

Beetle also seems exceptionally chipper, which is usual, but it's like his normal personality on steroids. So, nightmare fuel, basically.

"Welcome to Planet Rijaxx!" greets a voice off to your right. You and the others turn, and you immediately understand why Sky and Beetle are so excited.

It's some sort of tall insectoid creature you've never seen before, boasting the characteristics of a male. He looks uncannily like a huge butterfly that walks on two legs, complete with a double set of arms and colorful wings that refract blue and green all over the forest floor. His eyes match his wings, which are mostly sapphire blue, and two tiny tendrils twirl out from the back of the abdomen-like body part attached to his hips. He's all smiles, seeming to light up even more when he notices Sky.

"Rue! Sky! Beetle! Some... other people that I... don't recognize!"

Rue laughs out loud, putting his arm around the new arrival like they've known each other for light years. "Thrip, this is Dyke, Meta, Rivera, Volt, Rivit, Gill, Stretch, Phin, Meta, and the twins, Tik and Tok."

The Rijaxxian, Thrip, moves his wings in a circular motion, which is probably some form of greeting. Then he sees you and Skeet and asks, "Who're they?"

"Oh! Skeet, Vega, this is Thrip, one of the greeters for the Planet. He helped us out when the Irk Du Freak was just starting out. Thrip, these two guys are Vega and Skeet. New recruits from only about two days ago."

 _It's been two days? Yeesh. I guess time flies when you're flying around in a cramped scout ship with fourteen other people.  
_  
Thrip waves excitedly and chirps, "So what's the tea? Super speed? _Shapeshifting_?"

Rue laughs again. "Nope, they're doctors."

"Oooooooh, _scary_."

Thrip smiles a dazzling smile and waves his arms for you to follow, not wasting any time picking up conversation with the performers. He catches up with old friends and makes new ones, which can't be hard for him considering how positive and excitable he is. He reminds you of Skeet in a few more ways than one, especially with the way he makes excessive hand motions and waves his antennae around, which makes it easy to get Skeet himself out of your business as he goes off to listen to the conversation between Thrip and Sky involving how annoying wing cramps in midair are. It must be nice for her to have someone to relate to, and it shows. Her antennae are raised higher, her skin seems a little little less pale, and her eyes lose the fearful sadness they always seem to contain.

You look up at the rainforest again, this time noticing more since you're out of the clearing, such as strange fruits shaped like musical instruments or red-eyed frogs that pass over your feet without so much as a blink. The Rijaxxians seem to be fairly similar to Irkens in their body language and shape, so it probably just passed you off as a normal thing to see. You walk by a bush dotted with sweet-looking berries, but you choose not to take one in fear of falling ill because of some generic poison inside.

Even Volt, who hates anything prettier than him, has his hands tucked under his arms to avoid accidentally torching any plants into horribly charred lumps of ash.

You walk for another minute or so (By this time Skeet and Thrip had pretty much become best friends), until Thrip stops in front of a medium-sized hut made of huge tree leaves you don't recognize held together with clumps of green mud.

"Enjoy your stay, blah blah blah, come to the stage when you're ready, you've heard it all before, I'm sure. Bye!"

Rue pats him on the back and waves goodbye as he walks back to his post, skipping a little and whistling a cheery tune.

* * *

As it turns out, the hut is full of tons of beds all lined up against the walls with a small table in the center, a map of the area laying flat on it to help travelers find their way around. The light source is created by streams of sunlight coming in through the leaves and casting little green patterns all over everything, giving it a sort of fairy-tale feel.

It takes you a little while, enough for everyone to get in costume and settle themselves, but you notice some small lettering on one side of the door, marked in a kind of black staining.

 _Designed for the Irk Du Freak by construction manager Mantis.  
_  
Then four signatures from Beetle, Sky, and Rue. The original Irk Du Freak.

 _ **SLAM**_!

The door flies open and smashes against the signatures, almost crushing your fingers in the process.

"IRK DU FREAK!" hollers a female voice from the doorway. "GET TO THAT STAGE _RIGHT_ THIS INSTANT!"

Meta glances over, sees who it is, and looks back down at the drawing pad in her lap. "Mantis, the show doesn't start in over an hour."

Mantis plants her hands on her hips and says knowingly, "If you can't figure out how to be on time, be _early_."

"You always say that!" Phin groans.

"Anyone who doesn't know, this is Mantis. Mantis, this is Vega, Skeet, Phin, Meta, Tik and Tok, Rivit, Dyke, Stretch, Volt, Gill, and Rivera," Rue says.

Mantis adjusts her glasses in a very know-it-all fashion and points a threatening finger at Rue.

"Be on that _flirking_ stage in one half hour. I _mean_ it," she snarls, then turns and slams the door behind her.

"Sorry about that," Rue sighs, abashed. "She's actually pretty okay once you get to know her. Just... _punctual_ is all."

 _I have a very hard time believing that.  
_  
Rivera nods her head at you doubtfully.

"But you heard the gal! Everybody grab your things!"

As everyone bustles around and prepares for the performance, Rue puts on his hat and and fixes his collar, sending you a smile.

"Guess whaaaaat?"

You glance over at Skeet, who also looks a little worried.

"New costumes for you two!"

... _Oh, Tallest, strike me down now._

* * *

I hate this I hate this I hate this," you growl, allowing Rue to inspect you from all angles while fixing up a few folds in the clothing. He had chosen an actually decent-looking (but horribly uncomfortable), dark green suit with a collar like your doctors' uniform, a small cape, and a flashy silver lining. Three stripes, to indicate your rank. He also gave you a silver antennae-ring and a bright green bow tie, which matches your eyes almost perfectly. It sort of chokes you a little.

Skeet received a suit as well, his coming in his signature brown-amber color with two stripes rather than three. His getup also includes a shining silver Irk Du Freak logo (The Irken symbol with four eyes and four antennae), and you look down to see the same etching on your own outfit. It's going to take some getting used to over the Medical Department's insignia.

Stretch eyes your tight-fitting suit as he walks by, but thankfully says nothing.

"Why do we need these anyways?" you ask Rue, who is currently adjusting your sleeves.

He chuckles. "Meta was _begging_ me to let her design you guys some new clothes."

"Hold on," Skeet says, glancing down. "Meta _made_ these?

"Actually, she makes _all_ the uniforms. Quite the creative one, that Irkenette."

"It's go time!" Phin cheers, clapping his hands for everyone to file out in a fit of excited chatter.

* * *

eYou stare up in awe at the city's main square, dumbstruck by how beautiful and well-planned the construction is. Countless houses made of the same waxy leaves dot the canopy, all strung together by tethered bridges. Strategic areas of tree shade have been sliced away to allow sunlight to stream through onto one area, the center, a huge stage with a colorful garden surrounding it. You don't recognize most of the flowers, but a few seem to be imported from foreign planets. Perhaps for fruit in return.

Quite a number of Rijaxxians are seated in front of it, and some others poke their heads out of windows and doors to see what all the fuss is about. Shades of pink, purple, blue, green, and everything in between overwhelm your vision with nothing but color. Some have lines of silver around the edges like Thrip, and others gold or bronze. But every single one has a large swirl pattern on each wing accompanied by a smaller one off to the side. There's no black or grey or brown to be found.

One swoops over your head gracefully with a bucket in each arm, all full to the brim with bananas and mango-like fruits. The carrier's wings match the brightness of their hues, yellow green, and a little bit of orange swirling throughout. She waves at you with one of the buckets and smiles in the friendliest manner possible.

* * *

(( _Conclusion: This place would never survive an invasion.))_

* * *

... _So why has the Irken Empire left them alone?  
_  
Just then, a line of small Rijaxxian smeets toddle by, each carrying a leaf bowl full of carefully-balanced water. They look extremely focused on not spilling it on the way to their destination, eyes crossed or tongues out in concentration. It appears that their wings haven't fully grown in yet, considering their size, so they must walk across the leaves and ferns to drop off the bowls of fresh water.

Suddenly, one trips on a discarded fruit and topples into the one in front of him with a yelp of surprise, which in turn makes him run into the one in front of him, which in turn runs into the one in front of her, and it becomes a whole domino effect. They all go down, along with the water, into the mud and dead leaves littering the entire rainforest.

But instead of crying or cringing back in fear of being struck, they just burst out laughing and skip back to grab some more.

Something lands on your head, so you growl and look up to see _another_ fruit carrier, this one a lavender-colored female with silver lining, flying by and apologizing over her shoulder.

* * *

(( _Conclusion: Rijaxxians are left alone because they would be useless slaves.))_

* * *

Your brain barely registers the stage lights (Some kind of weird worm that glows when shaken, placed inside a clear container) flipping on, but drifts back to attention when Rue calls your name.

"Vega! Wish us luck!"

"Erm... good luck!"

As the Irk Du Freak performs their classic show, you take the time to peek through the curtains in order to examine the audience, ignoring the conversations between the non-performing freaks (plus Skeet) behind you.

The odd thing is that while the Irken crowd was was either horrified or disgusted, this bunch seems to be excited, happy even. Some sort of sparkle lights up in their eyes when new performers step onto the stage, as if they truly respect them and even wished they were a part of it all.

* * *

(( _Conclusion: They don't see a lot of action.))_

* * *

 _It has to be boring to sit and have everything be perfect after all—  
_  
 ** _CRRK_**!

Your antennae perk up at the sound of what seems to be a falling tree, and lift your head toward it confused on. One Rijaxxian glances back and moves in his seat a little, but doesn't appear to think much of it.

But that tree didn't sound like it had simply _fallen_. It sounded like it had been _ripped_ off of its roots with violent force.

So you continue to stare at the tree-line on full alert.

After a few moments, you relax a little. You're not very good with unfamiliar planets after all—

 ** _CRRK! CRRK!_**

Every singe Rijaxxian in the area has finally realized what's been going on and turns to the sound of two more trees snapping and crashing to the ground, each and every single one with wide eyes and raised antennae. The tiny tendrils on their arms and legs twitch, as if they're feeling the air currents. Next to you, Mantis breathes, "Holy f**k we're dead,"

You turn toward her, admittedly in hysterics by this point.

"What? What is it?"

She looks over, and you notice her eyes beginning to lose their magenta color and fading into a pale grey-brown. That's... worrisome.

The leaves rustle to the North, and her wings do the same color-changing routine, the bright colors being washed out into that bleak mud color. From her straight lips comes the word, " _Hornethera_ *."

Something huge smashes its way through the trees with a might scream of triumph, finally revealing the disturbing sight. Huge, snapping mandibles, buzzing wings, black on yellow stripes all down the body, and a nasty-looking stinger big and sharp enough to stab through an entire Blarken Shocklo Beast without so much as a blink.

 _A fifteen-foot tall..._

 _Hungry-looking..._

 _Probably Rijaxxian hunting..._

 _Wasp._

* * *

 _To be continued_ **.**

* * *

 **A/N: I was planning to go about twice as long, which is why it ends without a decision to make. I wrote more than I thought.**

 ***Pronounced "Horn-eh-THER-ah"**

 **Thanks to Phoenix-Inferno18, WitchyArtistGal, Zim'sMostLoyalServant, and some guest person. If ya want a proper shout-out ya gotta make an account, my friend. XD**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Yikes, a whole year? I'm gonna be honest, aside from my occasional drawings of IDF characters on DeviantArt, I basically forgot this fanfic existed. But then I went to the field museum during a recent trip to Chicago, and inspiration struck me in the form of the jewel wasp (more info in the author's notes at the end of the chapter). I finally became interested in writing again when I thought I was done for good. I've also made some changes to increase the quality of the fic.**

 **-Tik and Tok have been removed**

 **\- "Hornethera" has been changed to "Sfika**

 **-Vega, Skeet, and Sfika have received design changes (My DeviantArt: Inferna-13)**

 **-Rue will receive a design change soon**

 **Anyways, on with the story… FINALLY.**

* * *

 _CRRK!_

Your antennae raise sharply at the cracking sound of a tree trunk splintering, causing a few Rijaxxians to look around confusedly. Was that fear you just saw in their eyes? Or simple confusion?

You nudge Dyke beside you, and you notice his eyes are narrowed and his antennae are twitching methodically.

"Yeah, I heard it too."

You hear Meta shrug behind you, creating the sound of Arachnia-silk clothing rubbing against itself.

"Probably just some random Rijaxxian creature. Seems to me like we discover a new one every time we come here," she sighs, not even looking up from her drawing. Her hand moves expertly across the jungle paper. She appears to be drawing that strange waiter from Foodcourtia awhile back. What was his name? Miz? Tim? *

"But that tree didn't just _fall_ ," you persist. "It was _ripped_ from its roots."

Meta places her pencil down and looks up at you, followed by Skeet looking over her shoulder.

"So?"

 _CRRK! CRRK!_

Two more trees cry out in agony, closer this time. The audience wastes no time in panicking; some take to the skies immediately and others begin hurriedly gathering up the small ones without wings.

"SFIKA!" someone screams, prompting everyone who wasn't already in a terrified frenzy to join their brothers and sisters in the air. There's always that guy…

One, in his desperation, takes a moment to get far off the ground and gets dangerously close to the stage before pitching upward. The look on his face isn't that of a coward. It's the look of _cornered prey._

A sharp, "Hey!" makes you turn around, resulting in an eyeful of Meta shaking a crazed mantis around wildly. The colors of her wings are severely faded, now a dingy and pale grey that the eye has a hard time being drawn to. Even her eyes are the same shade of uninteresting, all in all making her incredibly unremarkable to look at.

"Sfika," she gasps breathlessly. "Sfika. I need to run."

"What?"

But before Meta can receive a straight answer from the disoriented Rijaxxian, a third series of cracks arise and send her into a shrieking and thrashing frenzy.

"Let me gooooo!" she howls, beating her wings violently. "Danger! Sfika! I need to fly away! Let me go noooow!"

Meta, her face now being battered relentlessly by Mantis' huge, discolored wings, yelps and releases her shoulders at a loss of what else to do. Mantis doesn't hesitate in winging it out the curtain, but not before bumbling into you and sending your tall body sprawling on the wooden floor. A relatively familiar-feeling hand heaves you back up onto your feet, allowing you to dust off your uniform and look up at his face. It's Rue, and he looks baffled and overwhelmed.

The other cast members pour in after him, each face varying from terrified, to confused, to entirely unconcerned in Volt's case. Overconfident jerk.

"Do _you_ guys have _any_ clue what's supposed to be happening right now?" Rue asks helplessly. He looks quite shaken. You, Skeet, and Meta shrug, but Dyke continues to stand on high alert with his antennae vibrating intensely.

"There's no hope in asking a local," he sighs, turning his head back towards the scene of chaos and screams behind him. "All they'll tell me is that "Sfika" is coming and they need to fly before it's too late. It's… not very reassuring."

 _CRRK! CRRRRK! Zzzzzzz…_

Cue another wave of mass panic, complete with loud cries of terror. Your antennae cringe back in protest.

Suddenly, something pokes at the back of your brain. Hysteria. Desperation. Hopeless screams.

 _Just like at the infirmary._

You snap to attention.

Another Rijaxxian flies by, smacking one wing on a support bar in his fit of hysterics. This throws his off balance for a short moment, allowing you to snatch him by the shoulders and swing him onto the hard floor. He collides into it with a _thunk,_ throwing out his arms to protect his face. He scrambles to stand so he can fly away, but you react quickly and jump on top of his front side to pin his limbs down. Your arms hold down his, and your knees keep his wings from tossing you off. His legs are still free to move, but regardless of their length you're pretty sure they can't reach you.

But just as that thought crosses your mind, two hands grab you by the throat accompanied with a determined cry of, "Get your filthy hands offa me!"

 _Flirk! Rijaxxians have **four** arms!_

Your windpipe seizes up, severing your intake of precious air. Irkens require much less oxygen to survive than many organisms because of their ability to run on other, similar elements found in the air of foreign planets, which allows them to function on said planets. Unfortunately, the first generation of smeets to have the ability to breathe through their PAKs was the generation _two after yours._ This means you can survive on Rijaxx, but not with your throat blocked like this.

Your mouth opens to cry out, but only a choked gurgle escapes.

"Vega!" you hear Rue yelp. Your vision is beginning to darken around the edges, so it takes a second to register him jumping in to pry the Rijaxxian's hands off of your throat. He's mostly successful, but it takes the combined strength of both him and Beetle to tear him arms away and pin them to the floor.

You gasp as your lungs fill with whatever gas happens to be in Rijaxx's atmosphere, coughing uncontrollably after doing so. You don't have time to catch your breath, though, so you do what you set out to do in the first place.

 _SMACK!_

The struggling body beneath you falls momentarily still as he looks up at you in shock. "Hey-"

 _SMACK!_

"Stop!" he yelps as emerald green begins creeping back into his dirt-brown eyes. Shining, golden flecks shimmer among the stunning color, giving his wings and eyes a sort of glittering look. "What's your damage! Get _off_!"

You stand up, rubbing your neck and nodding for Beetle and Rue to step off of his wings. The teenaged Rijaxxian boy stands up shakily, rolling his four shoulders and flapping his wings to test their integrity. After he confirmed nothing was majorly injured, he turns toward you and gets in your face.

"What's _wrong_ with you?!" he scolds you. "Who just yanks someone out of the sky like that?"

You rear back defensively. You've never in your life had someone shorter or younger stand up to you. Apparently, height isn't a factor on this planet… or this little brat is simply insolent.

"Know your place, _kid_ ," you growl, pointing a finger at his chest. He snarls right back.

"Guys!" Phin calls. "Now isn't the time!"

"What's your name?" Rue asks the Rijaxxian, turning his shoulder towards him.

"Cicada."

"Cicada, why don't you tell us what a Sfika is?"

Cicada gulps, looking over Rue's head at the chaotic scene unfolding in front of him. The countless hordes of butterfly-people taking to the air has formed into a coordinated tornado of forest-colored wings like birds flocking away from a predator. The few carrying young dart into the trees and disappear among the bushes and ferns below.

Their survival method makes sense to you now. When mass panic ensues, their wings become shades of the rainforest floor or canopy and they create a cloud that spins wildly to confuse the one they're scared of. Then, one by one, they fly into the treeline until every one of them is hidden among the flora, invisible to the now disoriented attacker.

"A Sfika is-"

 _SCREEEEEE!_

Finally, a huge, green shape reveals itself through the foliage. Horrible, black antennae poke out to survey the mass hysteria, followed by mandibles and the two jet-black, piercing eyes of an apex predator.

This would usually be the part in the story where everything goes silent as a grave, but over the flapping wings, screaming voices, and rustling flora, it's hard to even hear yourself think.

Among the chaos, the beast blinks its black, lifeless eyes and screams again, lifting up onto its back four legs. Black eyes. One eye color among the rainbow of eye colors within the Irken race that is completely unseen is black, likely because some Meekrob prophet predicted the Irken with black eyes to be the demon-spawn that would bring the Empire to its knees. He was eliminated after that, but since then the Tallests have been exercising extreme caution when it comes to smeets' eye colors. If one with black eyes has ever even been born after that time, it would have been promptly eliminated and disposed of.

The Sfika hisses a hiss that sends shivers down the spine, regardless of how it can barely be heard among every other sound. It just cuts directly through it all.

A Rijaxxian makes the mistake of stumbling into the open air, where she is snatched up by the creature's jaws in the blink of an eye. With the _crunch_ of an exoskeleton, her screaming ceases.

Rue covers his mouth in horror, tears nipping at the corners of his four eyes. The rest of the cast has similar reactions, even Volt, as the shock of going from peaceful safehaven to chaos-ridden nightmare planet is quite the contradicting kind.

The beast arches its back menacingly, revealing the jewel-like crystals lining its spinal area. Its opalescent body shimmers like a massive jewel, beautiful and terrifying. It's now that you realize the _scale_ of this thing. It likely stands at the height of four or five Tallests standing on top of one another, its wingspan reaching at least that much. Cicada grabs your hand, bringing you out of your temporary state of paralyzing shock.

You shake your head to return your senses to normal.

"Cicada," you say, just loud enough for him to understand as you turn him away from the carnage. "What can you tell us about Sfikas?"

He bites his lip. "I-I've heard if they find you but don't eat you, they turn you into a zombie and bury you alive f-for their egg to hatch inside you and eat its way out…"

He lets your hand go to cover his mouth and shake his head, looking sick. "But that's just a story to scare little kids out of wandering into the woods, right? Right?"

You look at him sympathetically.

"They also say a hero long ago with lightning in his fingers saved a whole village from a Sfika long ago, but no one really believes that. It's not possible."

You turn to Volt, who you remember now hadn't performed yet. He looks back, shaken.

"Why are you staring at me?"

"I have an idea."

"Whaaat?"

"I SAAAID I HAVE AN IDEA!"

"You have a whaaat?"

"AN IDEA—oh, forget it."

* * *

"I HATE THIS IDEA!" Volt howls, desperately holding onto Sky's arms like a drowning victim to a life ring, his legs dangling far over the Sfika's back. Speaking of, it appears to have stopped eating Rijaxxians and is now scanning them individually.

"I can't watch," Beetle squeaks, covering his eyes with two hands and securing himself to his part of the branch with the other two.

Skeet gives Volt an enthusiastic thumbs-up.

The beast grabs hold of a shrieking Rijaxxian, but releases him after inspecting him more closely.

You glance down at Rivit, who has agreed to act as bait due to his regenerative abilities. But he never specified whether he could feel pain or not…

"She's looking for a host!" Cicada whispers into your ear from his perch hidden in the trees. Lucky for him, his natural color is one that also occurs in the foiage.

Rivera turns her head with a scoff. "Shouldn't we be using Cicada as bait? Who says this thing will even care about some freak running around trying to get its attention?"

"How about we maybe _don't_ do that?" Cicada suggests helpfully.

Rue shakes his head. "I'd rather we guarantee safety for everyone rather than total success."

"HEEEY!" Rivit hollers, waving his arms around like a crazy person. "OVER HERE! HEY, UGLY!"

The Sfika pauses momentarily to lower its head to Rivit's eye level. He gulps, looking like he regrets every decision he's ever made.

By now the tornado of civilians is less than half the size it was before, but the gigantic creature doesn't seem to care.

It's made its choice.

Before anyone can call for him to run, Rivit is snatched up into the jaws of death. He lets out a pitiful squeak as the air is forced from his lungs.

"NEW PLAN!" Rue screams. "CICADA!"

You look back at the mostly hidden Rijaxxian over your shoulder.

"Nonononononono…" he mumbles, shrinking further into his hiding spot. Even through the trees you can see the terror in his eyes.

* * *

 _Do you throw him out?_

 _-Yes_

 _-There has to be another way, right?_

* * *

 **A/N: Phew, done. I hope you guys enjoyed, and here's some explainations/announcements:**

 **-Sfika is inspired by the Jewel Wasp, AKA the Emerald Cockroach Wasp. To make a long story short, it chews off a cockroach's antennae, stings it in the exact place in its brain to eliminate its desire to escape, then lays an egg under its leg before leading it to a hole, where it is buried. It's fully conscious during all of this, but literally feels no need to run or try to get away. After the egg hatches, the grub incubates and eats inside the cockroach until it eats its nervous system and brings it to a merciful end. After that, it breaks out of its shell and flies away to continue the cycle on some other cockroach. I thought this tied perfectly into Irk Du Freak because the entire defense of a Rijaxxian relies on fear, so eliminating fear would result in absolutely no way to survive. Besides, the entirety of my "Hornethera" idea was "WASP EET BUTTERFLY, BEEG BOI WASP EET BUTTERFLY _PEOPLE_ ".**

 **-My artistic abilities have improved drastically. Please consider checking out the new designs of the characters if you (understandably) didn't think much of the old ones. (My DeviantArt- Inferna-13)**

 **-An explanation of the inner workings of the Rijaxxian species will appear on my DA at some point to replace the old reference drawing.**

 **Thanks for reading, and I hope the quality of this fic has gone up since I took that massive hiatus.**


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